Picky Porridge
by floridapanther28
Summary: Vaughn was a picky eater, but he never thought it would come down to this... Vaughn fangirls, this is not your type of story. Vaughn-lovers should avoid clicking on this. Rated T because of language, pure crack, porridge, and fire extinguishers.


Thunder rumbled in the night, and a dog was heard howling all alone in the distance. The silver-haired cowboy with sopping wet hair sat down at his favorite diner about to order his favorite dish. His amethyst-colored eyes darted over towards the over-priced menu of food items to choose from. Vaughn had been craving some real food ever since he tasted some boiled carrots. Not only were they carrots, but they were _Julia's_ carrots- that basically meant they were five times as bad. Julia was practically his younger sister already, but her cooking was lethal.

"One bowl of the usual," Vaughn sighed, "and make it snappy."

Nick rolled his eyes but did as he was told, fetching the oats and hot milk. Vaughn was his pickiest customer, always finding something to complain or whine about. Nick sighed in annoyance at the cowboy, to which Vaughn widened his eyes.

"Don't sigh into my porridge! Quit breathing in my food."

Nick groaned softly to himself, then grabbed the bowl as if it were Vaughn's head. He slopped the oats and wasted Grade A milk into the trash can, then grabbed a new bowl and spoon. Nick poured a cup of oats and a fresh cup of milk into the bowl and began to stir all over again. Talk about déjà vu.

"Mix it slower," Vaughn commanded. Nick mentally sighed and stirred the concoction slower.

"Don't mentally sigh at me," Vaughn ordered, glaring at the man from under his Stetson hat. How dare that chef mentally sigh at the cowboy! Nick was slightly freaked out at how many things Vaughn knew that he did not, so he kept his mouth shut.

About five minutes later, the perfectly-warm porridge was ready for the king's approval. Steam rose from the porridge and the smell of warm oats drifted through Vaughn's nostrils.

"It's too hot."

"Then why don't you cook it yourself?"

"Because I paid you nearly 300 g for my dish."

Nick's facial expression fell, but he opened the freezer and placed the bowl of porridge on the second shelf. _He's a jackass,_ Nick thought to himself. Talk about service with a smile.

"Vaughn, it'll be ready in about five minutes," he seethed. Vaughn grunted in response and sat down at the nearest table to wait. The cowboy liked his porridge cold because he wore many layers of clothing. He didn't like to show off his arms, so he kept all of his jackets on. The porridge evened out his body temperature.

"Done," Nick murmured with a frown through clenched teeth. He slid the bowl of porridge across the table towards Vaughn, who ungratefully snatched the metal spoon. Vaughn raised the spoonful of porridge towards his mouth, and…

…spat it out.

"I nearly _scalded_ my tongue!" Vaughn shouted, fanning his mouth between sips of water. Nick yelled something undeterminable and grabbed the fire extinguisher. Vaughn tried to pull his bowl away, but to no avail. Nick pulled the latch, and white foam burst out of the contraption.

"_There_ you ungrateful little man-bitch! The imaginary fire is fucking put out, okay?"

Vaughn's eyes grew larger than saucers and Nick began to rant.

"There's a boy your age with an adoptive father living not too far from here. They live in the wilderness and have to _hunt_ for their survival, yet _you_ complain about the heat of your porridge! The boy and his father would eat with their bare hands I tell you, their bare fucking hands and then _thank_ me afterwards! So, bastard, if you fucking think that this is unhealthy to eat, then I'll fucking eat it myself you bitchy mother fucker! I WILL!" Nick yelled in his restaurant with rather horrible acoustics.

"Father, I haven't seen Vaughn anywhere…"

"Yeah, me too…" Regis muttered to his daughter, writing out yet another document for his mining corporation. Sabrina looked up at her dad and frowned, clearly annoyed.

"You're not even listening to me, are you daddy?"

"Yeah, me too…" Regis answered as if hypnotized. Sabrina sighed, stood up, and smoothed out her dress. Regis glanced up at her for a half of a second, then got right back down to scribbling on a document.

Just as Sabrina opened the door, some teen with shaggy silver hair and sparkling violet eyes slammed the door open. Sabrina gasped at Vaughn's appearance- his hair was tangled, his eyes were wild and murderous, and he looked like he had been to Hell and back.

"V-Vaughn!" Sabrina exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace. Vaughn stared down at Sabrina with wide eyes and felt a huge surge of relief once she finally let go. Vaughn sat down in a posh chair, making it filthy with grime and dirt. Sabrina and Regis didn't seem to mind (*Doubt that Regis noticed anyways), and the ebony-haired girl began to walk upstairs. Sabrina clucked her tongue and shook her head in sympathy.

"You poor thing… you look like you could use some porridge."

**So, ta-daaaaaaaaaaaa! I've asked most of my friends on fanfiction if I should write this story, since Vaughn tends to get hurt in it… but I got a bunch of mixed reviews, and I decided not to listen to any of 'em and go ahead with my plan anyways xD However, I decided not to kill him off because, um… I actually just changed my mind 8D I had trouble writing a scene like that, so I decided against it. Also, I've PROBABLY offended many fangirls and I'll PROBABLY get flames, but… oh well. XD I'm actually not gonna even bother looking at the reviews for this one. Thanks for listening to this pure crack of a oneshot. Buh-bye. **

**-flp28, over n out. **


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